


Anything For You

by writ_green717



Category: The Fosters, The Fosters (TV 2013)
Genre: 2x19, Coma, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Memories, standing up for one another
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 04:50:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3596982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writ_green717/pseuds/writ_green717
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were running. Running and giggling into the living room as light flooded the stairwell. <br/>	“C’mon, this way!” Taylor hissed. There’s a bang, and then he’s stumbling. He’s tripping over his own feet, a tight knot in his right shoulder. He fell, crumbling like sand onto the hardwood floor. He stumbles and falls into black.</p><p>(takes place after 2x19 where Connor is in a coma and the events after he is awoken)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

\----I do not own ABC Family's The Fosters or any flashbacks mentioned in this chapter!-----

 

Connor

They were running. Running and giggling into the living room as light flooded the stairwell.   
“C’mon, this way!” Taylor hissed. She led the group, Daria on her tail, then Connor and lastly Jude. There’s a bang, and then he’s stumbling. He’s tripping over his own feet, a tight knot in his right shoulder. He fell, crumbling like sand onto the hardwood floor. Everything stopped as Jude rushed forward, Daria on his other side, her cool hand on his flaming shoulder.   
“Connor! Connor!” Jude shouted. A man bounded down the stairs, gun still in hand. It clattered to the floor.  
“Taylor?” he asked, realization dawning upon him. “Taylor! Call the police!” he exclaimed. He knelt down, elbowing Jude out of the way. There’s a new pain in his shoulder as a firm, hot hand jutted into his shoulder. Connor winced at the pain.   
“Everything’s gonna be all right, Connor,” the man reassured. He merely blinked, his eyelids becoming excruciatingly heavy. Connor blinked once, twice, and then his eyes remained closed.

~~~~~~

“It’s best if we work in pairs, so everyone, chose a partner.”   
Connor glanced around as the class split into pairs, a brunette remained seated. He turned to face him.  
“Do you have a…” he began.  
“No.”  
“Do you wanna be mine?”  
The boy, Jude, he thought, nodded, a smiled teased at his lips.   
“How ‘bout I come over Saturday? My mom doesn’t like having kids over, says it gives her migraines.”  
Jude nodded.   
Saturday came and after a fast paced, near tie, soccer match, his father dropped him off at the Foster’s residence. He knocked on the door.  
“Uh hey, c’mon in,” Ms. Adams greeted when she opened the door. He stepped into the foyer, glancing around at the room. A oriental rug was rolled across the floor, complimenting the dark wood stain on the staircase and the table against the wall by it. An open doorway led to the living room, and another led off to the dining room.   
“Jude, Connor’s here!” Ms. Adams called up the stairs. Jude ran down and smiled.  
“Hey Jude!” Connor exclaimed.  
“Ah! The Beatles!” Ms. Adams interjected. Connor gave Ms. Adams and Jude a questioning look.  
“It’s a band old people like,” Jude supplied.  
“Okay, ouch.” Ms. Adams sighed. Jude beckoned Connor to the stairs and Connor followed him up, admiring the stairwell collage of family photographs. He took note of the lack of pictures of Jude. Upstairs, in the room Jude led him into, skateboards leaned against the half wall, and a limp jersey rested on a shelf.  
Connor made a comment about the shirt, which Jude brushed off and said it was his brother’s. Connor pointed at a skateboard-also Jesus’s.   
Half way through their project, Connor turned toward Jude.   
“You never talk bad about anybody, like ever.” He commented.  
“What’s the point?”  
A nice silence fell upon them before Connor whipped out his PSP handheld-shiny, black, new. Jude glanced over at the game. Connor held it out for him and the other boy accepted it, twiddling with the controls for a second before looking at him. Jude shot Connor a small smile before he glanced back at the game.  
When it was time to leave, Jude moved to hand Connor his PSP back, but Connor denied.  
“You keep it,” he stated.   
“Thanks.”  
“See you on Monday.”  
“Yeah, see you.”  
Connor left and Jude closed the door behind him.

~~~~~

In the fog of his mind, Connor could hear voices, all muddled together like white noise. It buzzed in his ears, whining with the occasional sob. It would halt for what felt like two seconds, but he knew it was probably hours.   
“Connor?” a cautious voice began. “You know they say people in comas can hear you speak. And, Connor, I wanted to tell you that I love you.” The voice was familiar. It was like sweet honey dripping into calm tea. Daria pressed a hand to his limp one, enclosing it in her gentle hand. “You should wake up so we can go on movie dates, and picnics, and to the pier like we planned,” she said. “You are incredibly strong and we all want our friend back, Connor.”   
Her voice faded into the white static of his mind, slowly receding after the words ‘movie dates’ until her voice drowned out with the rest of the noises he could hear in his state. 

~~~~

He sat beside Daria at the table with his back to the beach; Taylor on Daria’s right. Jude approached the table cautiously, stopping when he saw the two girls beside Connor. Connor beckoned him over.  
“Do you wanna see a movie this weekend-as a group?” he asked.  
Daria went on to describe the movie they wanted to see.   
Jude shook his head.  
“C’mon, Jude, it’ll be fun,” Connor persisted. Jude relented and the two fell into an easy silence for the remainder of lunch.   
Friday. Connor sat in Daria’s mom’s backseat with Daria in the passenger and Taylor on his right. They idled outside the Adams Foster house as Jude ran out the door to greet the trio. Taylor crawled out to allow Jude in the middle and Connor moved closer to the window. Their knees knocked together accidentally and Connor froze awkwardly. He coughed, but left his knee touching Jude’s.   
Daria’s mom dropped them off outside the theater; Daria pulled four tickets out of her handbag.   
“You guys are on snacks,” she smiled as they showed their tickets to the ticket master, who nodded and passed them on to the atrium outside the screening rooms.   
Daria and Connor split a popcorn and two sodas while Taylor ordered a Cherry Coke. Jude shook his head.  
“I’m good, thanks,” he replied politely. The group made their way to the screening room and they stood in the aisle for a second under the lights.  
“Where do ya wanna sit?” Connor asked.  
“Anywhere’s good,” Taylor said.  
“The back,” Daria suggested at the same time. She nodded at a set of four seats in the back row and Taylor led the group up, going to the farthest seat from the aisle. Jude sat beside her and when Connor sat down, he pulled the armrest down between him and Jude.   
Just in case, he thought. He didn’t want to accidentally do something, not tonight. He knew deep down he was doing this more for his father than for himself. He just has to think I’m straight.  
Daria and Taylor absorbed themselves in the movie-something about a girl loving a vampire even though she shouldn’t.   
Connor looked to his left to see Jude watching the movie with disembodied interest. Jude’s elbow rested on the armrest between them. Connor shifted his weight, throwing his arm on the communal armrest. His hand was centimeters from Jude’s. He glanced out of the corner of his eye to check that Daria wasn’t watching…or Taylor for that matter. He took a deep breath.  
This doesn’t make me anything, does it? He tentatively brushed his pinky against Jude’s, and a spark of electricity shot up his arm. It was a foreign feeling, not like the kind he got when he held Daria’s hand or touched her elbow. It wormed its way up to his shoulder and then it looped round to his toes, electrifying his nerves.   
He held his breath for one, two, three counts. Then he felt the gentle brush of Jude’s pinky against his, touching softly like a whisper. Connor brushed back. Connor snuck a glance over Jude at Taylor, who remained consumed by the film. Jude simultaneously glanced over at Daria before he turned his head to see what Connor saw with Taylor.   
This can’t mean anything. You’re still straight, Connor’s mind persisted, but deep down in his mind there was another voice that rattled in its cage where he had barred it away for months. You’re not. You’re not. This means more than anything.   
Connor took a steadying breath, exhaling softly. He glanced down at his and Jude’s hands. His fingers shook, and he caught Jude’s eyes trained on their hands as well. Connor inhaled and thought, fuck it, and moved his pinky over Jude’s. Jude moved his pinky under so they were interlaced. More electric shocks ran up his arm and they settled as a secure smile slipped from his lips. He glanced over at Jude, and he held a faint smile on his lips.   
In the dark we’re safe, Connor thought softly.

 

~~~~

 

The fog cleared briefly and Connor felt a new hand grasp his forearm, which remained limp and unmoving. The hand was firm and remained planted on his arm before it slid off slowly.  
“If I’m ever hard on you, it’s because I want you to live up to your full potential. You need to wake up. Baseball season’s about to start and the championship is in a few weeks and you need to prepare for the game. Please, son, wake up and smell the roses. You can’t hide forever in that head o’ yours,” his father whispered.   
His voice may have been soft, but every alarm rang in his head as his father removed his hand from Connor’s vicinity. The chair creaked as he stood.  
“You need to wake up and apologize to you girlfriend and your mother. They don’t deserve this pain that you have put them through-worrying that you’ll never wake up and they’ll be caring for a vegetable when there’re perfectly good carrots to be worshiped.” His father laughed at his own humor. “Just wake up and face the music.”


	2. Chapter 2

Time was something he didn’t worry about. It sometimes seemed like hours were minutes and other times like minutes were hours. Daria came again, her honey voice caked with worry and dripping encouragement. That’s all everyone wanted from him-to open his eyes.   
Such a simple thing should’ve been easy to accomplish, except he couldn’t. His mind pulled him down along the railroad lines of his brain, stopping at the occasional station. The steam and smoke would clear for a second and he’d hear in the faint distance a voice, begging him to just open his eyes, but it was like his brain was saying ‘whoops, not yet, son. We arrive at our destination when we’re good and ready. Don’t worry though, you’re still alive and haven’t died yet. Here’s snippet of reality to assuage you.’  
But they were tacit and far in between. He’d loop into a rewind of his life, watching people go by, talking to him like he’s walking and talking and aye-okay. He’d visit his mind until his brain pounded and a station would appear and he’d hear his father’s voice, forcing him back into his muddled brain, to slip into the fog that clouded over him again and again. 

~~~~

“Is one of you, Jude?” a girl asked at lunch. Jude sat on his right, a vibrant presence, his nails painted a cobalt.   
“He is,” Connor replied.  
The girl smiled and said “enjoy” before she left.   
“What was that?” Connor asked after she left.  
“I-I don’t know.”  
Connor trained his eyes on Jude as he shrugged his shoulders.  
“Well, tomorrow is kind of my birthday—”  
“And how does the cupcake girl know before me?”  
“I don’t think that’s her actual job,” Jude sighed. He launched into a story about having the hospital mess up the birthdate by a few weeks and it was always kept a secret that he was actually born on a different day.   
“So when can we eat ‘em?” Connor asked afterwards.   
“I’ve been getting these messages all day and I kind of need them.”  
“Here.” Connor opened the camera on his phone and snapped a quick photo of the words on the cupcakes. “There.”  
“Okay.” They each took a bite from a cupcake, smiling. 

 

~~~~

 

The room had dulled to a fuzzy buzz that flitted in one ear and out another in an insistent loop. He heard quiet voices that cleared between the static that was strengthening in his head.   
“He should wake up any day now,” a disjointed voice said.  
“But he…you say…he needs to wake—” the firm voice of his father complained.   
“He will….shouldn’t rush…anxiety might be…” the doctor’s voice was drowned out by the waves of fog that pulled him under.

~~~~

 

The tent was dark except for a dim flashlight pointed at the open ceiling. Jude sat on his sleeping bag across from Connor. He had a book open and he held a flashlight of his own close to the pages to illuminate the words. Connor never understood how someone could like to read for leisure, but he never questioned Jude. Jude was Jude. He didn’t like labels and did everything to defy those boxes people put him in. He never took crap for anyone, and the few words he may say cut deep into your skin and seem to lodge themselves in your bones, remembering the anger and hurt in his voice.   
Connor couldn’t help but glance over at Jude every few seconds. His brow was furrowed in thought as he read, a stray hair dangled over his forehead, and Connor had the odd urge to reach over and brush it out of the way. But he didn’t. He contently glanced up from his phone and would watch Jude for a minute before remembering his uber important business on Instagram he was doing. Eventually, Jude caught him staring.  
“Can I help you?” he asked.  
“No, sorry,” Connor shook his head. For some reason he wanted the stiff conversation to end and be like it was before when they could talk with ease, but now, it halted in the uneasy energy that nestled between them.  
“Why did you want to share a tent with me?” Jude asked as he set his book on the pillow behind him.   
“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my friend,” he replied.   
“But you never answered my question when you told me you first weren’t allowed to hang out with me.”  
“What question?”  
“’If I really was gay, would you still sleepover at my house?’” Jude quoted.  
Connor remembered that. His dad had said Jude was gay and that he couldn’t hang out with that kind of person. Connor hadn’t said a word, but explained to Jude.   
“Well, are you going to answer it?” Jude asked after a minute. Jude’s eyes were clouded with guardedness and something else-confusion maybe. His hair was sort of spikey like it invited Connor to ruffle it, or just sink his hand in it. Jude’s hands were trembling and he wanted to clasp them in his own and force them to stop.  
You’re not gay, a corner of Connor’s mind stated.   
But what if you are? Another side battled. That side forced the thoughts he had kept at bay to flood through his head. The way he would notice if there was a tense muscle in Jude’s shoulder, or how he had just wanted to run his fingers through Jude’s hair.   
Jude coughed to bring Connor back to the present. Remembering where he was, Connor nodded.   
“Yes.”   
That side of his head took over. The curious side that whined and replayed every thought like that he had ever had. Before he could consider what he was doing he was leaning in toward Jude. And Jude wasn’t leaning away. Connor put his weight in his hands as he leaned forward, Jude meeting him halfway.   
It was a tentative kiss, reluctant, curious. It was barely a touch before Connor pulled himself away. It felt better than kissing Maddie or Chelsea in spin the bottle. The first part of his mind screamed at him to stop. What would his father think? What would he do? He was already going to get his ass whooped for sharing a tent with Jude, but actually kissing him?   
“Connor?” Jude whispered. “Are you okay?”  
He nodded and gulped a blessed mouthful of air.   
“Yeah,” he breathed. The second part of his mind danced exuberantly and begged for more. So Connor leaned in toward Jude, who didn’t back away. Their second kiss lasted longer; Connor’s hand came up to cup Jude’s cheek. Jude kissed back, applying equal pressure to Connor’s lips. Each movement Connor made, Jude copied. They both broke apart at the same time, eyes flitting up at one another.  
“Please don’t tell anyone, Jude. Not yet.”

 

~~~~

 

“Connor?” a fresh voice filled his ears. It was soft but at the same time firm. “You know he likes you.” Taylor. Her voice was blunt and to the point. “He likes you a lot, and I know you like him. I saw it when you glanced at Jude instead of Daria when I mentioned getting drunk and making out.”   
There was a laborious pause. Static began to fill, but Connor didn’t want to go under. He wanted to hear what Taylor had to say-he had to.  
“But, let’s not talk about that,” she continued. “I saw it when you two were talking before though. He’s an amazing friend to wait for you to figure yourself out-and don’t lie to me, Connor, I see the way your eyes light up when you’re with him. It’s like something out of a romantic comedy. If you wake up, I think you should tell him how you feel-with words. Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”  
Taylor left and the fog had drifted for a minute-maybe it was an hour-allowing him to think about what she had said. Jude still liked him. And he liked Jude. The words seemed to fit well in his mind, like he was supposed to think those words over and over.  
I like Jude. I like Jude. I like Jude. The thought played like a broken record, never ceasing as he felt the same drowning sensation he would feel when the fog was about to take control. He didn’t want to leave Taylor, but he knew that he couldn’t see Jude if he woke up, not when his father would blame Jude for the shenanigans and forbid him from hanging out with his friend (?)-crush(?)- and sinking away into the fog was the best way for him to see Jude.


	3. Chapter 3

Connor stood outside the Adams Foster house. He had tried all afternoon to find privacy in the house, but it was practically impossible with four other teenagers and two parents. Jude and him faced each other on the porch.   
“There is nowhere to be alone in this house,” Jude stated once they had the front door closed.   
“Hey, if we sneak out tomorrow night, after teepeeing, we could hang out…you know, by ourselves.” Connor said. He raised his eyebrows for emphasis on alone. Jude nodded, understanding. He didn’t reply. 

 

~~~~

 

Connor arose from the stifled fog. The buzz that once clouded his head had eased. He felt his fingers twitch for a second and then go limp. There was a bang as a door closed close by. Someone sat down in the chair by his bed, the chair creaked as the person adjusted their weight.   
“Uh, hey,” the voice was quiet and staccato. “Connor?” Jude’s voice was like an angel sent from Heaven above. He was there, actually there finally. “I’m sorry for not coming earlier, I just didn’t think I could do this. I’m sorry for being mad at you for dating Daria. She allows for us to hang out, and I know it must be hard for you to have that confusion over what you’re feeling and maintaining a relationship and keep a friendship that always feels like its crumbing together. Moms said there was a chance that you’re like this because of anxiety, and I want to apologize for being any part of that.” Jude gripped Connor’s hand, and he felt the pressure Jude enclosed there. “I can’t let you feel obligated to make up your mind about something as confusing as this. I want you to figure this out, and I don’t think you can do that with both your father and me.”  
Jude released Connor’s hand and the chair creaked and squealed as he stood. He turned his back on Connor and walked away, unaware of the twitch of Connor’s fingers and the minuscule flutter of his eyes as they urged to waken. 

 

~~~~

Connor wanted to hold Jude’s hand as he walked the halls, and in his head, he did. He walked down the halls of Anchor Beach with Jude’s hand clasped in his own, an idiotic grin plastered on his face. Outside, Taylor waved them over, Daria beside her laughing at something on her phone.   
Connor wanted the courage to sit on the bench with Jude so close where he was practically in his lap, kissing him like he did with Daria, but slower, realer.   
Where was his courage to do that now? He had painted his nails for Jude and now he can hardly talk to his friend without the words is this something a gay person does? Running through his head. He head shouted at him to stop and to throw his heart at Daria, but his heart didn’t pound in his chest like when he was with Jude. Connor could be devouring Daria’s mouth and he wouldn’t get the same feeling he got with Jude when their knees, or fingers, or even their toes touched accidentally.   
You stopped as soon as you noticed his smile and how white his teeth were, and his laugh that started as a conserved giggle but could escalate quickly to a vibrant chuckle that made his eyes seem brighter than stars, his mind said. That was how Connor would describe it. He remembered that smile from Jude’s Adoption Day. 

 

~~~~

 

Connor’s eyes fluttered briefly. He heard the heart monitor beep with every pulsation of his heart. He could smell disinfectant-a real smell for the first time since he had been drifting in and out of the fog. His arm was cold with the ghost of a hand encasing his own.   
“Connor? Are you waking up?” His father’s voice was lacking its usual firmness. Connor blinked a few times and pushed the fog away for the first time instead of giving in.   
Sleep crusted his eyes and his throat felt like sand paper. His dad handed him a glass of water. Connor took a slow sip and handed the glass back.  
“Connor,” his dad began. “What’s been going on between you and Jude Foster?”

 

~~~~

 

Connor walked up to Jude’s locker.   
“Hey I just got Dawn of Armageddon 4 wanna play it when you come over tonight?” Jude asked.  
“I can’t-I can’t come over tonight.”  
“That fine, is Saturday better?”  
“I can’t stay over at your house anymore,” Connor said quietly. He paused.  
“What-why?”  
“I know it’s not true but I can’t sleep over at your house anymore because my dad thinks you’re gay.” His father did think that, but he was more worried that Connor might be.   
He can’t stay over if you think you might be… his mind trailed off.   
Jude hadn’t replied.   
“I don’t care you you’re...you know if that’s what you are. It’s my dad,” Connor protested.  
“What gay? It’s not a bad word. Why do we go around, putting people into boxes?”  
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry,” Connor apologized immediately.   
“But would you still want to sleep over at my house if I really was gay?”  
Connor didn’t have time to reply as the bell rang. He rushed off to class and he regretted every word he had said to Jude in that conversation.   
Throughout school that day he had caught wind of a party Callie and Brandon were hosting. Maybe he could…he shook his head. He met up with Jude at his locker again toward the end of the school day.  
“Jude,”  
Jude raised his eyebrow at me He shoved binders into his book bag and zipped it shut.  
“We could still hang out-my dad just doesn’t have to know-“  
“I…I don’t want to be anybody’s secret. Tell your dad it was nice knowing you.”   
Still, that night, Connor walked over to the Adams Foster residence and rang the doorbell. Wyatt answered and sent him up to Jude’s room with a comment about Jude having two girls from their class over. He ascended the stairs and turned into Jude’s room where he stood with Maddie and Chelsea by the window seat.   
“Hey, Jude,” he smiled. Jude’s face lit up and Connor smiled wider.  
“Now there’s four of us,” Chelsea said, waving her phone back and forth.   
They sat in a circle, the two girls on either side closest and furthest from the door. Jude sat across from Connor. The phone rest between them, spinning after Connor had pushed the virtual glass bottle. It spun and spun and halted across from him-directly across from him. Jude blinked at the phone; his brain slowed to process what had happened.  
“Do we-” Connor began.  
“Well, those are the rules,” Chelsea interrupted.  
“Fine, whatever,” Connor relented.   
“No. We can’t do this-“ Jude protested.  
“C’mon.”  
“Fine. Whatever.”   
The leaned in. Closer and closer. Connor could smell the mint toothpaste on his friend’s breath, and he could see the light hairs rested just above Jude’s lip, barely noticeable. Did his breath smell bad? What if he sucked? Connor shook his head. Why was he worrying about that now, when he was kissing Jude, and not when he was kissing Maddie, the girl he actually liked.   
They were an inch apart when the door burst open. The two split apart. Callie walked into the room.  
“Connor, your dad’s here,” Callie called.  
“He can’t know I’m here.” Every eye on the room was on him. “I-I snuck out.” 

 

~~~~

 

Connor blinked away drowsiness. His father stood guard at the door.  
“What happened between you and Jude?” he boomed.  
Connor shrugged. He had a smart ass response of “which time” but that seemed irrelevant to his father’s anger.   
“Nothing.” We just kissed on a school trip, held hands in a movie theater when I had a girlfriend, spent the night at said boy’s house and kissed him in his bedroom, and had gone to get drunk after TPing a house just so he could hang out alone with him. But otherwise, no, I have done nothing with this boy, Connor thought.   
“Are you dating this boy?” his father spat the word as if it were worse than the most obscene words he’d ever use.   
“No-”  
“So then why is it that your phone has suggestive text sent to and from this boy?” his voice boomed, and Connor wanted nothing more than to cringe, cover his ears, and hide under the sheets like he used to when he was small.   
“They’re nothing.”  
“What did I tell you about this? We agreed that you had no feelings for this boy!” his voice shouted. “You are not allowed to see this boy if he is going to corrupt you the way he already has been!”  
“But Dad—”  
“No. I’ve had enough. You are to rest and get better so you can get back to school. You’ve already missed too much class time.”   
“Dad,” Connor called to his father at the door. “I’m gay.”


	4. Chapter 4

“You’re what?” Mr. Stevens asked.  
“I-I-I’m…gay?” Connor’s voice became taciturn as his father’s stern eyes landed on him. He gulped. “I’m gay.”  
“Please tell me you are just saying you’re happy, please,” his father begged. “You cannot be one of those fags. I raised you right-no Barbie dolls, or pink or purple clothes, and definitely no dresses and thoughts about this!”  
“How I was raised had nothing to do with it!” Connor argued. His heart thundered in his chest and he heard the monitor as it beeped rapidly to keep up with his heart’s erratic pace.   
“I did everything right to make sure you would be the perfect son. You’re a star athlete, decent student, and you were supposed to marry a lovely girl like the other ninety percent of the population!” He emphasized the word ‘girl’ to watch the blood drain from his son’s face.   
The doctor chose then to enter the room and stride to Connor’s bedside.   
“It’s a pleasant surprise to see you wide eyed and bushy tailed, Connor,” the doctor grinned.   
“It’s good to be awake,” Connor replied quietly.   
“Mr. Stevens, may I speak with you for a second?” the doctor waved Connor’s father to the far side of the room where he spoke in a soothing, tacit, quick voice. His face twisted from understanding to livid anger in all of .02 seconds.   
“He what?” Mr. Stevens exclaimed.  
“Your son, because of the bullet wound he suffered, has some tissue damage which will make him unable to play baseball. I’m sorry, sir, but there’s nothing we can do.”  
“Nothing you can do?! He has a game in two weeks-the finals before the championship! You’re tell me he can’t hit a ball anymore because a thirty millimeter piece of copper got shoved into my son’s skin-involuntarily might I add?”  
“We can’t fix the damage without possibly causing more damage to the nerves and tissues in that area.” The doctor strode suavely over to Connor’s bedside. He turned his attention to the fourteen year old. “And how have you been feeling in your few hours of wakefulness?” he asked.  
“Okay I guess,” Connor shrugged.  
“Well, according to your charts you had quite the bit of anxiety an hour ago. I heavily recommend you stay as far away from stressful situations as possible.”  
“You’re absolutely right,” Mr. Stevens cut in. “That is why, Connor, you will be unable to see Jude for the time being. He causes too much stress in your life and you can’t have that when you need to heal.”  
“I’ll just give you your round of medicine and be on my way then.” The doctor busied himself to dosing him with pain medicine that made him drowsy, but all he could focus on was his father’s words echoing around his head.   
“You will be unable to see Jude. Unable to see Jude. Unable to see Jude.”   
It didn’t seem fair. Jude relieved his stress; the only person he created stress for was Connor’s father who had his mind set on having a straight son. Was liking boys that bad that Connor would be forbidden to even hang out with his friend?   
“He’s not even my….my boyfriend. We’re just friends. Why can’t we hang out?” Connor asked dazedly.   
“Because, Connor, you are going to marry a pretty girl once you are through with this fun and games Jude has you wrapped up in. That boy may joke around and choose to be gay, but you will not—”  
“It’s not like I had a choice!”   
“Watch it! You can’t have too much stress so I suggest you settle down. There’s a slim chance you could still play at the end of the season.”  
“I can’t settle down when you expect me to sit here and have you order my life! Too much stress is you wrapping a collar around my neck and leading me around like a dog to places I’m supposed to go! Too much stress is trying to have a girlfriend so I can hang out with my friend who hasn’t even defined his sexuality and then having to focus on sports as well as school in general! Can’t I just figure myself out?”  
The room was silent, and Mr. Stevens crossed his arms. He pointed a gnarled, sun burnt finger at his son.  
“I’ve had enough of your mouth. Gimme your phone.” Mr. Stevens rifled through Connor’s book bag that rested on the chair beside his bed. He retrieved a phone and pocketed it. “You can have this back when you have calmed down and gotten over your little gay meltdown and realized that you like girls.”  
Well fuck you too, Connor thought as he slumped back against the pillows of his bed. The medication finally kicked in and he gave into drowsiness happily this time. 

 

~~~~

“So…what’s going on with you and Daria?” Jude asked as he jotted down an answer to his homework. “Are you, like, still hanging out…with her?”   
“I mean, yeah. My dad lets us—”  
“Because you have a girlfriend,” Jude nodded.   
Connor rubbed his foot against Jude’s. Jude rubbed their ankles together as well. It felt nice, better than holding Daria’s hand, or even just kissing her. Their feet or their fingers or even just ‘accidentally’ brushing up against one another made the nerves inside Connor’s body ignite. He wanted to keep doing this-- sitting across from Jude, their ankles brushing, and smiling at one another.  
“We all have fun together, right?”  
“Yeah, I guess,” Jude replied.  
“Get outta here! I have to study!”   
“That’s what we’re doing,” Jude argued. “We’ll be quiet.”  
“I can hear you breathing!” Jesus argued.  
Grumbling, Jude and Connor rose from their seats and trudged out the door and down the stairs. Connor wanted to talk to Jude about their kiss last weekend, so, so bad. He wanted to tell Jude that he wanted to do more of that, but his dad only allows for him to be away from Daria for so much time. Daria. She was so nice and it seemed unfair that she was being used like this. He wanted to tell her the truth, but it was one of those things where he never could tell how she’d take it.   
The two settled down at the dining room table. Just as they opened their books, Lena came in with dishes and napkins.   
“Sorry you two, but I gotta set the table. Monte’s comping for dinner.”  
“The principal’s coming for dinner?” Jude clarified.   
“Yeah, Connor, you’re welcome to stay if you’d like.”  
“No thank you,” Connor declined politely. Lena laughed.   
“Okay.”   
Jude and Connor left to sit in the living room, where Stef and Lena were talking with Callie. The turned on their heels and made their way to the backyard…and Mariana was making out with her boyfriend. Finally, Connor excused himself to get home. Jude walked him out.

~~~~

“Connor? Connor?” Daria’s voice broke through.   
Connor blinked and nodded.  
“Are you awake?”  
“No, I’m flying an airplane,” he replied groggily.   
Daria had tears in her eyes. “Please tell me it isn’t true.”  
“Tell you what isn’t true?” Connor asked.  
“Is it true that you told your father you’re gay?” she asked quietly.


	5. Chapter 5

Connor shifted his weight in his bed, eyes closed. He didn’t want to talk to his father, or Daria, or anybody-not even the seemingly nice doctor that probably heard his entire argument with his father. All he wanted was for Jude to stand in the doorway and crawl into the bed beside him and rest his chin on Connor’s good shoulder and they could sleep like that. Connor could wake up to the smell of Jude’s hair and maybe holding Jude’s petite hand in his own, Jude lightly snoring.   
Connor kept his eyes closed so he wouldn’t have to hear the voice around him, wanting to sink back into subconscious where Jude smiled at him and held his hand. 

~~~~

Jude tossed in his sleeping bag on the opposite side of the tent. Connor rolled over to face him. Jude now sat up and rubbed his eyes.   
“Can’t sleep?” Connor asked.  
Jude nodded. “In my last foster home, I had to sleep outside when I wouldn’t take off his ex-wife’s dress. He kept shouting at me to stay outside and then he locked me out. It was cold and I don’t remember much, but I woke up on the concrete outside.”  
“Jude,” Connor sighed. Jude had this kicked puppy look in his eyes that made Connor want to wrap him up in a blanket-or better yet, his arms-and cuddled Jude till he fell asleep.  
No. No. He is your friend, not a…significant other, Connor chastised himself. You are straight. You like boys-no, girls, you like girls.   
But his mind didn’t listen. Connor opened his arms and hugged Jude, who buried his face in Connor’s shoulder.   
“You don’t have to do this,” Jude whispered when he pulled away from Connor.  
“I know, but I want to.”   
They had kissed and then rolled over awkwardly so as to not disturb the thoughts of the other. But, Jude clutched to Connor and Connor did the only thing he felt natural. He scooted over to his sleeping bag and propped himself up with Jude beside him. Jude leaned against him and curled into his side.  
“It’s okay, Jude. You’re safe. You aren’t really outside. You’re in a tent, safe from the outside, I promise,” Connor soothed. Jude nodded and closed his eyes beside Connor. Jude scooted away slightly, but Connor kept their fingers locked, a blanket over them in case they slept past wake up call. 

~~~~

Connor didn’t want to answer Daria’s question, but she stared at him with big doe eyes and Connor’s stomach did that guilty lurching thing where if he lied he’d be stuck using a girl who didn’t deserve it, but telling the truth could ruin his friendship with her-and she was actually really sweet and amazing, just not his type. Taylor was nice too and he didn’t want Jude to lose that friendship because he screwed up.   
“You know, it’s okay if you are. I won’t care. I just want to know if it’s true,” Daria elaborated.  
Connor nodded the slightest increment. “I’m so sorry, Daria,” he apologized. “I should’ve told you when I first figured it out-but when I was dating you—”  
“You could see Jude,” Daria finished. “Taylor’d been speculating about you two since I asked you out.”  
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. You’re an amazing friend, and if we were friends first that would’ve been the best, but we weren’t. I’m just so sorry I led you on, and I’m sorry for leading Jude on too, and now I can’t even talk to him and apologize.”  
“Connor, it’s okay. I forgive you, but we might want to take a break so that I can heal. I don’t know how I’ll react if I see you immediately in a relationship-even if it’s with someone like Jude.”   
Connor nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. But I’m really sorry.”  
Daria smiled and gave his hand a delicate squeeze. “I know you are.” 

~~~~

Connor ran back into the classroom to retrieve his textbook when he heard the scuffle in the hallway. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jude being pushed against the locker as Blake held him by the shoulders of his jacket.  
“You wearing a bra too?” Blake jeered.  
Jude shook his head and glanced down at his nails. Blake shoved him into the locker and a teacher ran forward.   
“Hey! Hey!” she interjected. Blake was whisked away to Ms. Adams’s office. Before Jude trailed along behind Blake, he turned his head and caught Connor’s gaze, who stood in the doorway, stunned. Jude glared back at Connor and walked away.   
Crappity crap. Connor ran home from school that day.  
“Mom?” he called. “Do you have blue nail polish?”  
“In the drawer in the bathroom!” she called from somewhere in the house.  
“Thank you!”   
Connor twisted open the cap and hesitantly dragged the brush along his nails. It was crude and messy, but he stroked the brush along every nail and allowed for the paint to dry.   
The following day, Connor saw Jude sitting by himself at a table closest the arched doorway back into the school. Jude’s finger nails were noticeably a shade of cobalt blue, and his fingers held a sandwich that he brought to his mouth. Connor set his lunch tray down on the table at the seat next to Jude. He took a bite of his own sandwich, showcasing his blue nails. He flashed a close lipped smile and Jude smiled back.

~~~~

 

“Is Connor okay?” a blunt voice asked.  
“He’s in his room,” Mr. Stevens replied.  
“Thanks. My dad is really sorry, by the way.”  
“I’m sure he is.”  
Taylor entered the room. She skittered to Connor’s bedside which was bland and devoid of any get well cards or flowers like she’d been expecting. She sat in the chair beside his bed with her phone in her hand.  
“Hey Connor,” she said solemnly.  
“Hey. Have you seen—”  
“Yeah. He told me he wanted to talk to you.” Taylor unlocked her phone. She handed it to Connor, who took it and opened Jude’s contact.

Jude: How is he?  
Taylor: Im fine  
Taylor: its me  
Jude: ?  
Taylor: Taylor let me use hr phone  
Jude: How’s your foot?  
Taylor: Hurts like a bitch  
Jude: Y did you tell your dad it was my idea 2 sneak out?  
Taylor: What? I didn’t

Connor took a second. He hadn’t told his dad it was his idea to sneak out. It was all their faults that this happened, and Connor wasn’t pushing the blame on Jude. All his dad had said after their disagreement was that he didn’t think Connor and Jude could be friends anymore.  
Taylor: I told my dad im gay

Connor waited for Jude to respond, but deep down he knew his friend wouldn’t. Reluctantly, Connor gave Taylor her phone back.   
“Thanks,” Connor replied.  
“No problem.” Taylor slid her phone into her pocket. As she stood to leave in a quiet undertone she added: “he really likes you, you know.”   
She left the room believing Connor hadn’t heard her. A small smile played at Connor’s lips when his father walked into the room. 

~~~~

Connor would lie in his bed at night and stare up at the ceiling wondering why he had always needed Jude. Maddie seemed like forever ago when Jude stopped talking. Their argument over who got to go out with her seemed petty now that Jude wouldn’t mutter a peep.   
Shakily Connor walked into Mrs. Adams Foster’s office. She had been on the phone, but quickly ended the conversation to speak with him. Connor took a seat in front of her desk.   
“Hey, Connor,” Lena greeted.  
“Can I talk to you for a second?” Connor asked.  
“Of course. Is everything okay?”  
“Uh no, not really. I wanted to know if there’s anything I can do to help Jude,” Connor offered. “Besides making sure other people aren’t making fun of him.”  
“Are people are making fun of him?” Lena inquired.   
“No. Not in front of me, not anymore.”  
“Thank you for that. I appreciate you looking out for him and being such a good friend.”  
Connor looked at his lap, shaking his head. Lena noticed.  
“Did something happen?” she asked gently.   
Connor bit the inside of his cheek before he responded.  
“My dad thinks Jude is gay,” he said in a hurried rush. “It’s why I can’t spend the night at your house anymore.”   
“I see,” Lena sighed as if she had been through a similar situation. Connor thought she might’ve when she was his age, going through the same thing he himself was going through.   
Every nerve in Connor’s body worried about Jude, and he got the inkling that it wasn’t just in that best friends sort of way. He didn’t understand it. He liked spending time with Jude and when they’d sit side my side, shoulders touching, his stomach would flip flop, but he enjoyed the feeling of Jude’s proximity to him.   
“Did he say that to Jude?” Lena asked.  
“No,” Connor shook his head in shame. “But I did.”   
“You told Jude you thought he was gay?”  
“No! I told him my dad did,” Connor clarified. He rubbed his hands together in search of comfort. “I didn’t stand up to him and I think that really hurt Jude’s feelings.” Connor paused and glanced at Lena in shame. “I’m sorry. I wish he’d talk to me again.”   
“It’s okay.” Lena rose from her desk and walked over to crouch by his chair. “It’s okay. It’s all right. You’re not your father.”  
Connor glanced at Lena in an ‘are you sure about that’ way.   
“Jude knows that. And he’s gonna speak to you again. You know, I think we all just need to give him some space…to figure out all the stuff he’s feeling inside.”  
“So…so it’s not my fault?” Connor asked sheepishly. His eyes bled guilt and worry from all the crap he’d put Jude through-the batting cages with his dad, then not being able to sleep over anymore, and then that almost kiss during spin the bottle. If only he’d had the sense to say no, but he hadn’t. In truth, in the dark depths of his mind, he knew he wanted to know what it felt like to kiss a boy-to kiss Jude.   
“No sweetie, it’s not.”  
“Thank you,” Connor murmured. He rose and left Mrs. Adams Foster’s office to head back to class.


	6. Chapter 6

Connor didn’t get much sleep the previous night. His foot itched and he couldn’t scratch it with the heavy plaster cast, and his shoulder bothered him profusely, the sling never in a comfortable position. He sighed as his father walked into the room with a tray of pancakes.  
“Morning,” Mr. Stevens grinned. He set the tray on the bedside table and handed a metal fork to his son. “You okay?” he asked once he noticed Connor’s confused expression.  
“Fine,” he muttered and stabbed a piece of pancake. He had expected his father shout, rave, scream, throw the lamp across the room, but he had been silent…for two days. Two days and not a word about what Connor had told him as he lay in the hospital bed after he had woken up. Not one word, just all smiles and plates of fattening food.   
“Has Jude been around?” Connor asked once he finished his breakfast.   
His father froze and turned to face him.   
“I don’t believe it is a good idea if you two continue hanging out,” he said firmly.   
“What?”   
“Jude just seems like a bad influence on you right now, and I know you can’t have too much stress right now, and I feel like you should take a step back for a second,” Mr. Stevens explained.   
“But…but-Jude’s my friend!” Connor argued.  
“And your ‘friend’ got you shot at and put into a coma. I just believe you should take a step back and rest. There’s no need for that stress right now,” Adam said with finality. “And that the last thing I have to say on the subject.”   
Adam handed Connor his phone back. It bounced off Connor’s shin onto the mattress to the right of his leg. Connor’s fingers fumbled when he grasped it in his palm. Nothing had been changed. Connor opened his recent messages and couldn’t find the conversation between him and Jude. A random number wasn’t even present where Jude’s name should’ve been. Connor checked his contacts-no Jude. The string of texts was gone as well.  
Connor took a deep breath.   
“Thanks,” he muttered to his father.  
“You’re welcome.”  
Mr. Stevens left the room, promising cups of coffee. Connor, not a moment later, whipped out his phone and texted Taylor.

Connor: Do U have Jude’s #?  
Taylor: yea, what do U need it 4?  
Connor: my dad deleted his #

Taylor sent Connor the number. Connor quickly added it to his contacts under the name Beatles. He laughed at his own nostalgic joke and powered off his phone. Rather quickly, he rolled over in the bed and closed his eyes in attempt to procrastinate from another argument with his father over Jude.

~~~~

Connor sat on the couch, an Xbox controller in hand while Jude stood in front of the Kinect, arms raised, immersed in the game.   
“Open the chest!” Connor exclaimed. Jude raised his arms to fling open the virtual trunk and collected the valuables. Mariana came into the room then.  
“Jude, you have a phone call,” she informed. Connor twisted in his seat to face Jude’s older sister.  
“I do?” Jude asked uncertainly. “Who is it?”  
“Ooh, um, I don’t know.” Mariana handed Jude the landline.   
“Hello?” Jude greeted. He turned to see his sister with a Cheshire grin on her face. He swayed and then left the room, phone in hand.   
“It’s a girl,” Mariana supplied.  
Connor adjusted himself in his seat on the couch. A girl? What girl would call Jude? Not that Jude wasn’t good enough for a girl or attractive-he totally was-but he didn’t have that many friends at school yet and well…  
Connor shook his head to rid himself of the thought. Jude was his friend. Nothing more and he never should be anything more. He wasn’t thinking straight-obviously.   
“Who do you think it is?” Mariana continued.  
Connor bit his lip and angled his gaze so he could watch Jude in the dining room whisper to the girl on the opposite end of the line.   
Jude came into the room moments later and sat on the couch beside his friend.   
“Who was that?” Connor asked, allowing curiosity to get the better of him.   
“Maddie,” Jude replied nonchalantly. Jude had picked up the controller and began to resume the game.  
“Maddie? What did she want?” Connor continued.  
“She, uh, wanted to know if I wanted to see I wanted to go see a movie with her next week,” Jude replied calmly.   
“She did?” Connor said more to himself than Jude, dejectedly.  
Well she shouldn’t, Connor’s mind shouted. She didn’t deserve someone as amazing as Jude; as calm as Jude; as quick witted as Jude; as adorable as Jude, especially the way his hair would be ruffled and stuck up at odd angles when Connor spent the night and how he wouldn’t notice until someone-one of his siblings or Connor himself-would ruffle the hair more and point it out with a cheeky grin.   
“What did you say?” Connor asked quickly to fill the pause.   
“I said I would ask my moms and let her know…” Jude trailed off. His eyes asked an untold question: are you okay with this? “at school tomorrow.”   
“Do you wanna go, like you know, do you like her?” Connor asked tentatively. He didn’t want the answer, not really, but he had to know.   
Jude thankfully shook his head. “No. No. Not like that. No.”   
Relief flooded through Connor’s body and he couldn’t place why he’d been tensed up awaiting Jude’s answer. But he could be lying…  
“Are you sure?”   
This time, Jude nodded. “Yeah. Huh-yeah, no.”   
Okay, good. Connor’s shoulders relaxed. Jude seemed to be eying Connor suspiciously. He had to cover his tracks. Jude couldn’t date Maddie, not really. Did that mean he wanted to date Maddie? Or did he want to…no. He couldn’t want to, not really.   
“Then is it okay if I ask her out?” Connor mulled. He raised his eyebrows, but Jude didn’t respond. He had a confused look about him, but soon he shook his head and in a quiet voice, said:  
“Yeah. Sure.”  
The pair sat in an uncomfortable silence.

~~~~

 

Connor’s head lolled against the pillows in boredom. He wanted to see Jude, not his grandparents or his mother or his father who is always talking about baseball and the possibility of him being a short stop instead of pitcher. His shoulder ached all the time and all he could think about was what if Jude was resting his head on his other shoulder.   
Mr. Stevens left the room after he ruffled his son’s hair with the promise of a slushie. Connor rolled his eyes and lay back against the pillows thoughtfully. Jude could always make him smile and laugh and feel…alive. Just the slightest glance and Connor would be enveloped into the world of Jude where expressions are cryptic messages and words are the most powerful substance in the universe.   
In a hushed voice, Connor could hear his father outside his room.   
“I told your mom I didn’t want you and Connor being friends,” he growled.  
“I know,” a foreign voice said. “But I want to see him. I want to see my friend and I’m not leaving here until I do.”  
The voice was calm and deadly and the words stabbed their victim with every syllable. Jude Adams Foster stood outside his room and Connor could practically hear the dead, so-done-with-your-shit expression he wore when he was about to blow up at somebody.   
Connor’s father was silent. He grumbled occasionally but didn’t say a word and Connor strained to hear every sound on the other side of that door.   
There was a shuffling outside. Connor pulled the sheets up to his chest and adjusted the sling around his arm. Connor ran his one good hand over his hair to flatten the mess after several days without styling it.   
The hospital door opened and hesitantly, he walked inside.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: thank you so much for reading, please leave a comment or a kudos! It would mean a lot!


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